Who ate the broccoli?
Yesterday Mum asked ‘Who ate the broccoli?’ when we were out in the garden. Something had given all the remain plants such a nibble that there was no more left for Mum to cut and bring indoors. Well, given the plants were already in a pretty bad state and I couldn’t see Mum getting the netting out again, I set to. I lay on the grass munching away on all the bits the grubs had left – and one or two grubs into the bargain. What I don’t understand is how it’s me who was in trouble and not the grubs. I should have been applauded for helping with the clear up operation, but no. Apparently, yet again Mum expects better of my behaviour. She really is very deluded.
Missing Aristotle
It was such a lovely day in the garden, with Mum Dad and me working together. It really did make us think about how much we miss Aristotle and how he’d have enjoyed the day. I try to do the things he would have done to help Mum, but if I’m honest I see most of the time in the garden as an eating opportunity. When Mum is cutting the grass, I chew the bits that are left behind. When she’s working on the veg… you get the idea. I nearly overdid it when she was talking to the robin. Apparently eating the birds is frowned on. It was a good job she mentioned it in time.
Tree grafts
Now that the sap is rising in the apple trees, Dad spent his time working on the tree grafts he’s trying to do. He only cut himself with the grafting knife once, which was pretty good all things considered. He’s tried two grafts and planted them in pots. Now we just have to see if the branch that has been grafted onto the root stock will take. I’ve promised not to chew them, so that is one problem solved. Now we just have to watch to see what happens.
Love
Wilma
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